Death of the Signless
by Anybraginski
Summary: So I made this beclaws I had seen things like this before. But they never really made sense to me beclaws of how things played out. So I just made my own. Ta da.


The crowd of angry trolls shrieked and yelled around me, and the pounding of their feet shook the very ground. I heard none of it. I was barely aware of the Dolorosa beside me, frozen with the horror of what she was seeing. Or the Psiioniic, farther away and passed out. I remember them giving him a drug, to keep his powers suppressed. They must have given him too much. Not even the sharp bite of the irons digging into my skin as I struggled against the restraints really reached me. My only focus was on him, my love. They had strapped him high to the punishment jut, for all to see, for the high blood to watch. At first he held strong, even though they beat him, he didn't cry out. But... One can only take so much pain. With each new blow, he whimpered. Softly, softly, but it was there, hidden by the horrible jeers thrown at him. It felt as though I was the only one who could hear them, the only one who might be able to help him, and yet... I was being held back. Helpless. As I watched my love, bleeding, hurting... Dying...  
The Grand High Blood sat on a stage, where he could easily see the Sufferer, a cruel smile across his painted face. I didn't hate him. Not yet at least. I simply hoped. I hoped the Sufferers pain would be enough to satisfy him. That my raw desperation would be enough to persuade him. With every pleeing glance I gave him, he only seemed to laugh harder.  
My love's face wasn't his own anymore. It was broken. A bruise spread across his cheek bone, but that was not what broke it. His passion was gone. His will, his fight, his love; gone. He was hollow, a shell. That look broke my heart more than anything. I lunged for him again, and this time I felt something give. It was my hand. The thin bones broke and dislocated and it slipped out of the iron cuff. The pain was horrendous. This time my scream hung in the air. The sound seemed to bring a light back in him, but not the one I was accustomed to.  
I could feel the Highblood laughing behind me. He whispered something to the E%ecutor, who was standing next to him. He gave an order to the troll holding me. I was to be let free, to give the Signless a final kiss, before he died. It was exactly what the Highblood wanted. But I didn't care. The second I felt those restraints fall lose, I ran for him. It was all I could do not to crush him into an embrace. He was hurt. He didn't need me making it worse. But the look in his eye... He didn't care.  
My hands went up, around his neck, and I pulled myself closer. I could feel him pull against the irons as well, trying to get closer to me. The kiss wasn't like our other ones, the ones shared in the deep of day, or beneath the moon and stars on the deck of _The First Ship_. It was more passionate and fiery, burning it's way to my core. But also more urgent, filled with the fear of what we both knew was coming. And just like that, it was over. He pulled away, his eyes boring into mine. His face was wet with the transparent green of my tears. I hadn't even realized I was crying. I felt eyes on me. Not the eyes of the crowd. The eyes of some different. I looked away from my Signless and found a blue arrow, pointed to hit be right between the eyes. This had been the Highblood's plan. To let me kiss the Signless one last time, and then to be shot, right in front of him, where he would see the life leave my eyes. Though the E%ecuter's eyes were shaded, I could see them plainly. They were clouded with an emotion I couldn't place. When he hesitated, I was filled with a false sence of hope. He was letting me go. He had to be a supporter of the Signless! We knew that there were some high bloods who supported us, he had to be one of them! He had to!  
I ran then. I didn't say goodbye to the Signless, we would meet soon. I was sure of it. As I left, I passed the pile of the Signless's clothes and took his leggings. We called them his 'righteous leggings'. In truth, more as a joke than anything. The Dolorosa has sewn them for him sweeps ago and he refused to wear any of the newer ones she made for him. His favored reason for why was 'they make my ass look great, don't they?' These jokes were made in the lighter moments on our quest. Those moment seemed to have been disappearing when we were captured. He would need them once he was free.  
As I disappeared into the woods, I could feel a new kind of energy grow in my love. I stopped at the top of a ravine. No one had followed me. I wasn't important. My love was the main event. The Grand Highblood has asked for the Sufferer's last words and he began speaking when I turned to watch. His words didn't reach my ears but I read his lips and saw the power of his words pass through the crowd as he spoke. I felt the passion in his words and knew exactly what he spoke, then though I was not with him. The E%ecutor stood ready, his arrow raised and pointed at my love. I wasn't worried though. As the Signless fell silent, I waited for the E%ecutor to turn his arrow to the Grand Highblood. To tell him no and shot him rather than my love. The crowd would disperse with the death of the subjuggulator and my Signless would be freed from the irons. We would continue on our quest once again and we would change Alternian for the better. We would take the E%ecutor with us, as a show of the blue bloods support! We would make my love's dream come true!  
Instead... The E%ecutor let his arrow fly, straight and true...

... My love would not need his leggings after all.


End file.
